


Unexpected Assets

by solrosan



Category: Kingsman (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, First Meetings, First Time, Women helping Women
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 23:51:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13647021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solrosan/pseuds/solrosan
Summary: Roxy and Natasha are sent to kill the same target. Natasha lets Roxy have this one... and much more.





	Unexpected Assets

Roxy took in the room. 

Everything from the high, painted ceiling, the chandeliers, and the mirrors on the walls, to the well dress guests and almost invisible servants. It was a fundraiser. The cause was clean water. It sounded good to put on an invitation, but the let’s-throw-money-at-the-problem-to-make-us-feel-better mentality made Roxy weary. This was exactly the type of event her parents would have attended if it had been in London. 

Now, luckily, it was in Prague and the risk of running into Lord and Lady Morton at this particular upscale hotel was really small.

Roxy had been forced to a few of these before joining Kingsman and blended in very well. She wore a sleek, black dress with a slits reaching her left knee, small golden earrings, a golden bracelet, and a necklace with a small diamond in the pendant. And her signet ring, of course. It wasn’t every day she saw herself in the mirror and was taken aback of how she looked. 

It hadn’t taken long before she remembered that the dress wasn’t bulletproof, though, and that the only place she had to conceal a weapon was her tiny clutch handbag. For months she had pointed out to Merlin that they really needed to broaden their range of useful accessories, but her earrings were just earrings and she still didn’t have spikes coated in neurotoxins in her stiletto pumps. 

The best she had got so far was the nail polish that could indicate date rape drugs and a bejewelled hatpin she used as a hairpin. The pin made her feel immensely powerful. Still, she had got both these things herself and it really wouldn’t hurt Kingsman to discreetly branch out and start making bulletproof evening gowns for occasions like these. 

Her target tonight was one of the guests, Dr Herman Lundborg, an influential pseudo-scientist with an almost cult like following. Eliminating him probably wouldn’t save the world, but it would make it a better place. 

During her second slow lap around the room Roxy noticed a red haired woman in an emerald green dress at the opposite wall. It was something about the way the other woman carried herself, the way she never seemed to lose her focus that pinged something in the back of Roxy’s mind. On top of that, there was something very familiar about her.

“Merlin,” Roxy said under her breath, zooming in on the redhead by a light tap on the side of her glasses. “She’s a professional, right?”

“A professional what?” came Merlin’s voice in her ear. 

Roxy exhaled a little louder than necessary. “Did you seriously just—?”

“Right. Sorry. One moment…” She could hear Merlin type away at his keyboard. “Ah. Yes. She’s Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, formerly with the KGB and SHIELD.”

“Oh, she’s the one who leaked the—“

“Let’s sound a little bit less impressed by that, shall we, Lancelot?”

Roxy smiled, Merlin sounded like a lecturing older brother.

“Who’s she working for now?” she asked.

“We don’t have any record of that,” said Merlin, “but it would have surprised me if we were the only ones interested in Lundborg.”

Roxy was about to reply when Romanoff looked straight at her and met her eyes as if she had heard the entire conversation. Roxy froze. She realised she should turn away but couldn’t. 

Shit.

“Lancelot,” said Merlin. “Tread carefully.”

Roxy snapped out of it, lowering her gaze and tapping lightly on her glasses again to zoom out. 

“Right.” When she looked back in the direction of the other agent, she was gone.

Roxy took a deep breath. She realised that her grip around her clutch was unnecessarily tight. She tried to relax and rolled her shoulders back. “Star struck” was probably not the right word to use, but damn, the Black Widow.

She kept on moving through the room. There was no sight of Dr Lundborg, but suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, she stood face to face with Natasha Romanoff. Roxy blinked. 

“You’re here for Lundborg?” Romanoff asked, her accent surprisingly American for someone born in Russia. Roxy was impressed.

“I’m sorry?” said Roxy. 

“Thought so,” sad Romanoff. “You can have him. Don’t make a martyr.”

With that, she turned to once again disappear in the crowd. Without thinking, Roxy reached out and grabbed her by the wrist. Romanoff stopped. They both looked surprised. Roxy carefully let go and took half a step back. She realised she waited for Merlin to scold her, but nothing came. Romanoff narrowed her eyes and Roxy could barely breathe.

“Why?” she heard herself ask. 

Romanoff looked her up and down. “Because you seem capable enough.”

Before Roxy could process that and find an answer, Romanoff left, leaving Roxy to stare blankly after her. 

Perhaps “star struck” was the right word after all.

-x-

Roxy wrapped a handkerchief around the gun before putting it back in her handbag. Her ears were ringing, her hands trembling, her heart beating fast. On the floor in front of her lay Dr Lundborg, blood from the hole in his head slowly ruining the carpet. 

Her first kill.

She thought of Mojo, her poodle, who she had been ready to shoot to get this job in the first place. Shooting a dog – no matter how much she loved her – was nothing compared to shooting a human it turned out. There was a line, and once you’ve crossed it, it’s impossible to go back.

“Good job, Lancelot,” said Merlin in her ear. “Now, get out of there.”

Her body obeyed, but her mind stayed in the room with the dead body. She walked along the corridor, in equal parts frustrated and relieved that no one had heard two gunshots going off. 

Instead of rejoining the fundraiser, Roxy went to the hotel bar. She put her handbag on the bar as she sat down and removed her glasses. All around were other fundraiser dropouts which made her delightfully invisible.

“What can I do you for?” the bartender said with a bright smile.

“What gin do you have?”

“What gin do you want?”

Roxy smiled. She had shot a man not even ten minutes ago and now she smiled. She really had crossed that line tonight. 

“Hendrick’s?” 

“That I can do,” said the bartender. Moments later, she had a glass of gin in front of her and she asked the bartender to keep the change. 

“I’ll have what she’s having.” 

Roxy turned around to see Natasha Romanoff. 

“It’s just straight up gin,” she said.

“Then make it a martini, at least,” Romanoff told the bartender as she took the seat next to Roxy. “Well, how did it go?”

Roxy blinked. Did she honestly expect her to confess to killing a man? To a stranger? In public? Just like that? The other agent didn’t seem too concerned. She paid and thanked the bartender before turning back to Roxy.

“To you,” she said, raising her glass. Roxy still just sat there. Unmoving. Romanoff frowned and put down the drink without tasting it.

“Was he your first?” she asked. 

Roxy nodded. That much she could give her. That much she could confide in her, since she obviously knew what had happened anyway.

“My first was a girl during training,” said Agent Romanoff, her voice even and calm, as if they were discussing vacations – or perhaps partners.

“How ol—“ Roxy cut herself off, feeling her ears heat.

“Twelve or thirteen.”

Roxy stared. 

“It was her or me,” Romanoff said. “My first man was in 2001. Treaty of Friendship signing.”

Roxy pressed for a smile. “Ironic.”

“Or perfectly fitting, I don’t know.” Romanoff shrugged and reached for her glass again. “Not sure what came of it all in the end.”

Roxy didn’t know what to say. Her ears were still ringing, her gun was – probably – still hot in her clutch, Dr Lundborg’s body was still not cold, and the Black Fucking Widow was sitting with her in a hotel bar discussing hits. This woman with two decades of killing behind her. This woman who had killed since before Roxy even had a grasp on the concept of death. This woman who was drop dead gorgeous and probably had an arsenal of weapons hidden on her body. 

Roxy couldn’t help that her eyes wandered, searching for them. That was the only reason for it. Really. This was a new level of surreal and, quite frankly, she thought she had seen it all during the Valentine debacle. 

Apparently she was wrong.

“Drink up,” said Agent Romanoff suddenly, as she put down her own empty glass. She then leaned forward to whisper, “I think you need some help to feel alive again.”

At first, Roxy didn’t understand what she was insinuating, but then she felt a hand moving slowly up her thigh. Something stirred in her gut, and to try her theory she uncrossed her legs. On that invitation Romanoff moved her hand to the inside of Roxy’s thigh. 

Fucking hell.

Roxy took her glass. She downed the gin in three big gulps before her sense would catch up with her and she’d realise that this was a bad idea.

Romanoff seemed impressed. “You drink almost as a Russian.”

“We had a lot of international exchange at my school,” said Roxy, getting up and gathering her things. “And even more time to kill.”

Romanoff shook her head, smiling. She took Roxy’s free hand and led her out of the bar, down one flight of stairs and across the grand hotel lobby. Roxy started to wonder just how stupid she was being right now – black widows killed their partners after sex after all – but she followed all the same. If Eggsy had fucked a princess after a successful mission, she could fuck an assassin. 

They reached a door with a sign saying “Rulík zlomocný” next to it. Romanoff let go of her hand. Roxy glanced over her shoulder, feeling a familiar thrill she hadn’t felt since she smuggled Jennifer into her room at the academy. 

When she turned back to Romanoff, she saw her short circuit the PIN lock on the door with her bracelet. The thrill was momentarily replaced with envy, because damn, that was exactly the type of thing she wanted Merlin to make for her! Her fist tightened around her clutch and her glasses.

The door opened almost soundlessly. Romanoff nodded for her to get in and Roxy pushed all other thoughts out of her head. Inside was a small conference room fitting six people around a round table. Sheer curtains were pulled for the window, but the streetlights still casts shadows through the entire room. Roxy put down the handbag and the glasses on the desk. A luxury hotel full of beds and they were in a conference room. She didn’t mind one bit.

Romanoff closed the door behind them. She walked up to Roxy, one hand already on its way to her face as if there was no time to waste. On instinct more than anything else, Roxy took a step backwards. Romanoff stopped immediately and lowered her hand.

That was enough for Roxy to make the move herself and she kissed her. Romanoff followed through with her hand, putting it on the back of her neck. 

“Just so you know,” Roxy whispered, breaking the kiss. “I have a hatpin in my hair. It’s sharp as fuck.”

“Good to know,” Romanoff murmured. “Any other sharp things I should be aware of?”

“No.”

Romanoff pulled away, her eyebrows raised. “Seriously?”

Roxy blushed when she nodded. Romanoff stepped back and started to pull up her dress. She stopped when she reached the hips. At first, Roxy had no idea what was going on, but now she saw that on the inside of her thighs, held in place by bland garters, Romanoff kept at least five throwing knives of different kinds and sizes. 

She had been right, Romanoff did have a hidden arsenal and – envy aside – that was the single most arousing thing Roxy had ever seen.

“A friend of mine is really good with blades and pointy things,” said Romanoff with a smile as she let her dress drop again. “You should get some.”

Roxy nodded, still staring at her legs and the once again concealed weapons. When Romanoff kissed her, Roxy still put away the thought of garter knives in a box to visit later. Instead she thought about how she probably shouldn’t close her eyes, about how that was probably idiotic, and about how she didn’t care right now. She focused on Romanoff’s lips, her hands, her hair which she had buried her fingers in. And the edge of the conference table that was starting to dig into the back of her thighs. 

She did care, however, when she felt Romanoff reach out and moved the glassed and the clutch. She broke the kiss and turned to see where her things were. 

“Don’t worry,” said Romanoff. “I’m not going to take them. Just wanted to make sure you won’t sit on them.”

“Sit—“ Roxy started to ask, but with a very small motion Romanoff had her to actually sitting on the conference table. She then pushed up Roxy’s dress as far as she could and placed herself so she was standing between her legs. Roxy helped to get her dress up even further. 

Romanoff bent down to kiss her again as she slid a hand down between her legs and started to stroke her through her knickers. 

Oh, fucking hell. 

Roxy sighed and she could feel Romanoff smile against her lips.

“Do you want me to call you anything?” asked Romanoff, still moving her thumb over her clit. 

Roxy, unsure what protocol actually dictated in situations like these, shook her head.

“All right. I’m Natasha.”

Roxy nodded. She knew that, yet hearing her say it, hearing her giving it up like that, made something flutter. She tilted her head up to kiss her. To feel her. To have her. She wanted to rip her dress off. She wanted to see the knives again. _God!_ the knives. 

Romanoff gave her one last kiss before spreading Roxy’s legs a bit and getting down on her knees in front of her. Roxy bit her lip at the sight of Romanoff’s red hair between her legs. That was fucking beautiful. With her help, she scooched a little closer to the edge of the table and managed to get her knickers off.

“You can call me Roxy,” she said, just as Romanoff was about to start and she could feel the warm breath against her. 

Romanoff gave her a short glance and an even shorter smile. Then she kissed her, much softer than she had kissed her mouth, before she started to lick and lap. Roxy bit down harder on her lip, bracing herself with her arms behind her and wondering how soundproof this room was. It wasn’t worth the risk of testing it, but she realised she couldn’t keep biting her lip or she’d end up losing it.

She sucked in a breath when Romanoff changed the rhythm and moaned when she continued. It was ages since anyone had gone down on her like this and her breathing became ragged quickly. She wanted to move her hands, but was afraid she’d fall backwards down on the table if she did. 

Romanoff paused for a moment. She looked up at Roxy as she pulled her down a little further and spreading the legs even more and going back in. She sucked on her clit, using both lip and tongue. 

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, _fuck_.

Roxy closed her eyes, her back arching as she tried to get closer, make it go faster. She was almost there, almost. Almost. Romanoff must have noticed, because she kept steady and her grip around Roxy’s tights tightened. 

Fuck!

A small sound left Roxy though clenched teeth. She whimpered. She probably would have slid right off the table if Romanoff hadn’t held her in place. Romanoff kept licking and sucking her through the entire orgasm. When Roxy landed, panting, she dared to move and reach down to lightly touch Romanoff’s head. 

What she wouldn’t have done to have her hand buried in that hair for all of it… 

Romanoff smiled at the sight of Roxy and let go of her legs. She kissed her gently, just like at the start, and got to her feet. 

“Fuck,” Roxy whispered. She reached out and pulled Romanoff to her, kissing her. Her face was damp, tasting tangy and salty. “Fuck… Give me a moment, then I’ll—”

“It’s okay,” said Romanoff. “This one’s on me.”

“You sure?”

Romanoff nodded. She took a step back to let Roxy get off the table. Roxy stood on shaky legs, getting out of her heels to be able to put her knickers back on and sort out her dress properly. She glanced at Romanoff. That was… that had been… 

“Thank you,” said Roxy. “That— I—“

“You’re welcome.” 

Roxy opened her handbag and untangled the gun from the handkerchief and gave it to Romanoff. “You have… lipstick on your face.”

Romanoff huffed a small laugh, because it was clearly an understatement, but took the handkerchief either way. She wiped the lower part of her face, not improving the ruined makeup much. She then stepped closer to Roxy and reached out to wipe something from her lower lip before handing the handkerchief back. 

“Good to go?” she asked. Roxy nodded once, closing the clutch with a click and a smile.

There was a bit of a commotion outside in the hotel lobby. Police was there and the blue lights from the cop cars and the ambulance hit the room in pulsating waves. Apparently they had found Dr Lundborg. 

Before Roxy had time to think twice about it, Romanoff hooked her pinky in hers and they both disappeared through a side door. They came out close to the kitchen’s loading bay and walked to the nearest street together. There they stopped, just outside the light from a streetlight.

“Good job tonight,” said Romanoff, extending her hand. “Try to stay alive, Roxy.”

“Thank you.” Roxy took her hand. “You too.”

Romanoff smiled briefly before she turned around and walked away. Roxy watched her go until she couldn’t see her anymore, then she put her glasses back on and walked in the other direction. 

It was time to get back to London.


End file.
